


Haven't I killed you before?

by Imaginarywriter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imaginarywriter/pseuds/Imaginarywriter
Summary: The remnants of passed soulmates were all etched into his skin- Timers reading zero, first words, initials, injuries, tattoos, whole conversations smudged across his arms. Almost anything that existed to find a soulmate could be found marring his skin. The passed soulmates gave him his abilities, the colors that dotted his vision, and his undying life.This one was like the others before him.





	Haven't I killed you before?

     A man paced the shore of a crashing sea. The icy spray of the waters went unnoticed as he fretted over a mark on his bicep. The mark was an elegant piece of work, looking like someone had stenciled a sun-dial on his skin with gold. The man's eyes bored into the elegant design as the gnomon shifted closer to midnight even though the man stood in the early hours of the morning; where the sun painted the sky with pastels and the clouds looked like cotton candy, and if the man had looked he would have marveled at the shimmering surface of the water. The man himself would be considered a thing of beauty with hard lines framing the soft features of his face and an ivory robe that clung to his form and revealed some of the muscles that worked under his dark skin, his hazel eyes were flecked with amber that gave the illusion that his eyes swirled around the pupil. Though all of these went unnoticed as the man's eyes were focused on the dial as it finally struck midnight.

     Everything seemed to become muted and dulled. The crashing of the waves was a dull murmur and the wind that swept through the trees passed the shore dimmed. The man did not breath, did not blink. He was frozen in that small space.

     The noise of something dripping to the sand set everything into motion again. The waves were a roar, the wind a hurricane, and his own heartbeat was the drum that set the pace for the flashing images of a life he had not experienced. The man fell to his knees in the sand and clutched at his hair.

     A raw scream was ripped from his throat. He had yet to meet them and they were already torn from him. His heart felt like it was being ripped in two and the sundial that was now still oozed liquid gold from its edges.

     Across the world a man entered the most sorrowful of slumbers a, now cold, hand laying over a faded carmine hour glass still full.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know what I'm writing.


End file.
